Princess of Thieves
by Shikamaru'sLove
Summary: "He gave her that nickname the moment he looked into her eyes, 'Green as Emeralds.' He said,'Green as a cat's." When Kul Elna is attacked, its princess looses her memories and is taken in by the pharaoh. Eight years later she runs away from her brother, Atem, will Bakura help her in her time of need? or will he leave her with her new family? Thief BakuraxOC Rated for later chappies
1. Ashes, Ashes

**Hey, guys It's Shikamaru'sLove! I know. I'm terrible. I didn't update until now, four months later. I've been super busy with marching band and color guard things. Please don't kill me. I really wanted to write a Yu-Gi-Oh story. I haven't seen the show in like eight years, so I read around and the best ones are based around season five, in the Ancient Egyptian time. So...Here you go! Read and Review! **

**I don't own anything except, Myra, Maya, Alec, Alaster and Prince Christian(Sadly) If I owned Yu-Gi-Oh...I'll leave it at that. :)**

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The small girl was perched upon a stone wall, the Egyptian sun warm on her tan shoulders. She closed her eyes and relished in the feeling of the light breeze blowing through her long auburn locks. Moss eyes opened and the princess sighed, fiddling with her thin, beige dress. She looked at the horizon. Before her, lay the small valley of Kul Elna; she'd never been in the village itself, as she had always been confined within the palace walls. She wished she could sit outside by herself more often, "Myra, what are you doing out here?" A deep voice spoke from behind her. The girl glared at the skyline; speaking of being alone…

"Nothing…anymore." She mumbled. Taking a deep breath, she dropped to the ground and turned to see her big brother, who had a curious look about his features. His ebony bangs fell over his intense emerald eyes as he walked over to the girl and picked her up, spinning around. Myra giggled and latched onto her brother as they spun, "Ali, stop, I'm getting dizzy!" The little girl chirped happily. Chuckling, the boy obliged, "What are _you_ doing here, Alaster?" Myra folded her arms over her chest and pretended to look official and serious. Her brother smirked at this and bowed gallantly, "Well…Milady," Alaster spoke respectfully, reminding Myra of her guards, "I have come to inform you that Bakura and Marik are at the palace…" He didn't get to finish, because when he looked up, the little mess of red hair was halfway over the palace wall which lay two hundred meters away. He chuckled and walked after her.

Her feet pounded on the sand and then onto cobblestone as she made her way through the courtyard and to the gate that led to her garden. As she made her way to her room, she skirted past servants to avoid being seen, lest her father know she was out of the palace. Myra made her way to her room and slipped on her sandals, which she only wore when she absolutely had to; she loved the feeling of the sand grains between her toes. She loved when Bakura and Marik visited; they always brought stories of life in the village.

But yet, Myra still had to wonder why they were here. She knew that the boys didn't come to the palace often, because her father disliked the idea of his little girl playing with boys; especially when they were boys who were older than her, like Bakura and Marik. Up ahead, she saw her father come down the hall, "Myra, my darling daughter!" King Alec smiled warmly and hugged his daughter, green eyes twinkling, "Papa!" Myra grinned and kissed her father on the cheek, "Now Qutaita, I know you hate celebrations, but there will be a ball for you birthday; only a small one." Her green eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth to protest but her father interrupted her, "No diplomats, no royals, and no princes. Just the villagers, I swear." Alec held up his hands in promise. A smile broke across the princess's face, "Thank you Papa!" Hugging him once more, she dashed down the hall and to the front courtyard.

The fair haired boys never saw it coming, "BAKURA!" The girl shouted in joy and excitement as she pounced on the white haired boy, knocking him to the ground. "Hi." Sharp violet eyes met sparkling emerald ones as she laid on him; head on her fists, elbows on his chest. "Hey, Kitten." Bakura tapped her nose. "Bakura, you know I hate it when you do that." The girl pouted and shot him a dirty look. The two boys chuckled which made her all the more upset. She smiled evilly, her vivacious jade eyes twinkling with mischief and pecked the white-haired boy on the cheek.

A flushed Bakura looked up at Marik, who was equally surprised, especially when she grinned and pounced on him too, "MARIK!" She smiled and perched herself on his chest as she had his friend only seconds ago. The gray haired boy merely sighed and ruffled Myra's hair, "Hey, Myra." The girl glared at the action but decided it wasn't worth it. Bakura lifted her off of his best friend and twirled her around, "Bakura!" She giggled, latching onto him. The white-haired boy chuckled before setting her down, "What are you doing here?" She wondered aloud, the warm desert breeze making her waist length auburn hair dance around her, "Don't worry, your brother invited us." Bakura smiled, his warm violet eyes always seeming to light up when she was around.

"Happy birthday, Myra." The girl turned to see Marik holding out something wrapped in cloth, a familiar scent wafted toward her and a huge grin spread across her face, "My mom's melon bread recipe." He laughed as the girl hugged him tightly and inhaled the melon bread goodness! "Myra," a soft voice spoke and said girl stiffened, turning slowly to face the voice. A smile graced her face, "Maya, you're back!" Maya embraced her little sister, enveloping the both of them in a curtain of raven hair that flowed from her long ponytail, "Of course, I wouldn't miss my little sister's eighth birthday!" Maya's moss-colored orbs softened when she gazed at Myra. Maya had been in Greece for the past three years, training to one day become the head priestess of the Four Great Kingdoms; maybe even the Pharaoh's Kingdom.

"I see that you've made it, Maya." Alaster spoke up from behind the two. The older girl narrowed her emerald eyes and glared at the wall, "Alaster, I see you're well." Maya acknowledged her twin brother politely with a smidge of resentment. Myra sighed and remembered the fight her siblings had the day her sister left, "Maya, you've returned." The king's voice made the group jump, "Alaster, lend Myra's friends some clothes for the ball. Maya help your sister get ready." He commanded. The younger children hurried down the hall to the sleeping quarters, the twins following close behind, until they were stopped by their father,

"We have caught word that certain people want to take the magic that resides here in the kingdom. I don't want any fighting or arguing, you need to be on guard and protect your sister. Understood?" His voice left no room for negotiation. The two nodded and mentally noted to conceal extra weaponry as they dressed.

Two hours later, Myra was twirling around in a deep navy blue gown, "Thank you papa! It's beautiful!" The aged man that danced with her chuckled, "Glad you like it, Qutaita." He spun her around and knelt down to her, "Myra, you look so much like your mother." Alec's emerald eyes glittered with tears at the memory of his late wife, "Papa, might I borrow Myra for a moment?" Maya appeared, beaming in her green flowered gown. Nodding, the king returned to his throne and started to speak to a few servants. The two sisters went off to the side of the ballroom and sat at a table with a few candles. Maya handed Myra a golden box with a circular jade lid. Black hieroglyphic carvings covered the sides.

Myra looked up at her sister; Maya's ebony ringlets had been let out of its usual ponytail and hung down her back, her bangs framed her face. She smiled at her baby sister, "Open it." Myra looked back down at the box curiously, "What's in it?" She asked, but her sister merely told her once again to open it. A shiver of excitement rolled down Myra's back as her fingers found the latch and popped the lid open. A pair of dancing bears and a flock of birds were painted on the inside of the lid and a galloping horse spun in the center of the box. But what caught her attention was on the soft, sweet music that seemed to pour out of it. Maya took Myra onto her lap and began to sing,

"On the wind,  
Cross the sea,  
Hear this song and remember,  
Soon you'll be home with me,  
Once upon a December."

Myra hummed the melody as her sister softly closed the lid, "It's so you don't miss me when we're apart. Mother gave this to me before…" She took a breath, "Before I started my Priestess training, just before she passed." Maya was only four years older than Myra, but she acted much older. "I want you to have it, so you'll have something of hers and mine." Her sister's voice cracked and Myra looked up at her sharply. Maya's emerald eyes shone with unshed tears and she wrapped her arms around her sister tightly, whispering sweet nothings in her ear. Someone cleared their throat and the sisters turned. There, leaning against the wall, was Alaster and Bakura, "Maya, can I speak with you for a moment?" the older twin's tone implying urgency. Nodding, Maya stood and left abruptly, leaving Myra and Bakura alone.

Myra opened her music box and hummed the melody, when she felt Bakura tap her shoulder, "What's that?" the girl looked up at him, "A music box. It was my mother's; Maya gave it to me for my birthday." She smiled and shut the lid. "I have something for you." He said and fished in his pocket for something, "Happy Birthday, Kitten." Placing a simple red orb around her neck, the boy kissed her forehead. Myra flushed and thanked him. "Qutaita, come here." Alec called from a group of villagers, "Coming, papa!" Leaving her music box in a maid's care, the girl told her to take it to her room, before hurrying over to her father. "This is my youngest daughter, Myra. Qutaita, this is Prince Christian. He's from Rome." The boy in front of her had bright blue eyes and blonde spiky hair; he was dressed in fine clothes and gold. Myra narrowed her eyes and glared up at her father before plastering a faux smile on her face, "Welcome to Egypt, my prince." She curtsied. "It's my pleasure, princess." He kissed her hand and bowed. The boy seemed to be a few years older than her, 'About the same age as Bakura, actually.' Myra mused to herself, "Papa, might I speak to you for a moment?" She hissed through her smile, "Excuse us, prince." Myra apologized over her shoulder as she dragged her father off to the side, "Papa! You swore, no princes!" She hissed, "Myra, listen to me. I'm getting older and your sister is becoming a priestess and your brother will soon become king. Our kingdom is becoming poor, when you are old enough, you will be married to a prince and weather he is from Egypt or not, you _will_ be married!" Alec spoke clearly, not allowing any argument, "If you meet with some suitors now, I will allow you to choose who you want to marry then." Tears welled up in Myra's emerald orbs; she was appalled that her father would do something like this to her. Crimson light glittered faintly from the pendent around her throat.

Suddenly, there was a terrible crash and swarms of men in black poured through the windows, "Lord Aknadin, how many do we need?" A man in a tan robe entered the room; he had a silver beard and dark brown eyes that sent chills down Myra's spine when they settled on her, "Kill them all, leave no one alive!" He said and Myra's breath caught. Chaos ensued, people trying to run were being killed, and bodies hit the ground, crimson life pouring across the marble flooring. Myra was picked up by her father and given to her brother, "Alaster, get her out of here! Protect her with your life." Myra looked up at her father curiously, "Papa? What's going on?"

Alec merely turned his gaze away from his daughter and pushed her into her brother, "Myra, go!" Alaster grabbed his baby sister's arm, "Come, Myra! We must leave!" Myra nodded and let her brother lead them out of the room. Running down the hall, the siblings made their way in and out of hallways in attempts to keep the murderous men from finding the two. They suddenly stopped, "Ali?" Her brother turned to his sister and ran a quick hand through his ebony locks, "Myra, I want you to take this," Alaster slipped a silver knife into her hands and pushed her into her quarters, "Stay here until I come for you, understand?" Myra looked up and met Alaster's eyes sharply, "Alaster-" The older sibling interrupted her, shaking his head, his lively jade eyes no longer twinkling with their usual mischief, "Don't argue with me, Myra!" Myra's sage eyes slowly filled with unshed but she held them at bay, especially when Alaster planted a kiss on her forehead before shutting her in the room. Swallowing her tears, the girl wiped her eyes and slid her dagger into her sleeve, securing it, tightly to her arm with a ribbon.

Suddenly, the wooden door started to shake and splinter. Myra started to whimper and back away from the door, only to have her back hit something warm and hard. Startled, she whipped out her knife and held it to her attackers throat, her necklace glowed slightly, "Kitten, relax! It's me. Marik and I are gonna get you out of here!" Bakura held his hands up and Myra released him. The boy smiled and slipped his hand into hers, "This way, through the servant's passage!" Marik held a stone in the wall open so they could escape. The boys used to visit Myra all the time through these passages, so it wasn't a surprise that they knew where all the entrances were. Emerald eyes flitted over the chaos of the room to a nearby table, where her music box lay. Fighting against Bakura's grip, Myra started towards the table. The door gave a groan and was seconds away from falling down. "Myra, come on!" Marik grabbed the girl and started into the tunnel, "My music box." The girl insisted and Bakura grabbed the box off the table as soon as the door burst apart. Just before men poured into the room, Bakura threw a dagger, hitting the middle of a hand that gripped the door jam, "Myra, Go!" the boy pushed her into his best friend,

"Get her outta here!" Marik suddenly tugged Myra down the tunnel as Bakura shut the passageway, with him on the other side, "No! Marik we have to go back! Bakura's still in there!" Myra hissed quietly. The boy shook his head, sending his ash colored locks back and forth. He lifted the girl up into his arms to cover more ground; her necklace glowed brightly in the dark tunnel. "No, he knows what he's doing, Myra. We have to get you to safety; he'll meet up with us." Marik tried to cheer her up as he ran.

Moonlight shone white on the sand dunes in the distance as Myra was lead outside of the village, "Yeah! We're home free!" Marik cheered, but at the rustling in the dry brush next to the wall, he brought the girl closer to him. Myra's necklace glowed faintly in the dark, "I wouldn't say that." A man with onyx eyes and ash blonde hair arose from his hiding place. "Who are you?" Marik spat, "Who I am has nothing to do with you. I'm here for the girl!" Myra's eyes widened and gripped Marik's shirt, "When I'm through with you, you will end up just like them." The man pointed to the sky just above them. Myra looked up at the sky just over the village and gasped; flames licked at the sky as if trying to reach the very heavens. Cries and screams floated to the small girl and seemed to weave into her ears, searing forever into her mind.

"M-Marik, I'm scared!" Myra shook and the boy merely placed her behind him, "Myra, listen to me. When I charge him, run and don't stop until you can't see the village anymore, understand?" The girl froze at his words, wanting to say no; she couldn't bear to lose another friend. "Marik, I-" Piercing lavender eyes met her green orbs, which were shining with tears, "We'll find you, I promise." He kissed the top of her head and gently touched the ruby orb that glowed at her throat. Marik stared into her eyes for a moment before tackling the man, sending the two of them into the sand, "Myra! Go!" Her friend shouted, sending Myra stumbling into the starless desert night.

She ran until her lungs burned and her legs shook with every step. The night was dark and the moon was a sliver of white against the black. Myra hugged herself, shivering in the cold desert wind. She looked down, her necklace had stopped glowing a while ago; Marik had told her to run until she couldn't see the village, but something inside her didn't want to stop. Up ahead, she saw lights, a village? She ran to what looked like a patch of grass underneath a willow tree, and decided it looked very comfortable. Myra stumbled and crumpled into the grass, pulling out her dagger and studied it intently. It shone in the low moonlight and she could make out a detailed dragon etched on the ebony blade. It had her brother's name carved in Arabic on the silver handle.

She got lost in the beauty of the blade and thought of her friends; Marik, fighting that man, telling her to run; and Bakura telling her to run away with Marik…come to think of it, he'd never called her by her real name until that moment as he always called her, 'Kitten'. She remembered the day he gave her that nickname the moment he looked into her eyes, 'Green as Emeralds,' he had said, 'Green as a cat's.' Now, she murmured the words in an attempt to comfort herself. Her father heard the nickname and started calling her 'Kitten' as well but in Arabic, Qutaita. Myra sighed shakily, finally allowing herself tears. All she could think about was being safe in her family's arms. Tucking her knife back into the ribbon, she yawned, the effects of her run taking its toll.

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When Myra disappeared into the tunnel, Bakura shut the stone and turned to face the attackers, "Where is she boy?" A man with a silver beard asked. The boy noticed an insignia on the man's cloak; the eye of Horus. The white-haired boy was dealt a sharp blow to his stomach, sending him into the stone wall. "Well? Answer me, boy!" A knife was held to his right cheek, "I don't know." Bakura cried out as the knife's tip dug its way into his skin. Aknadin, upset with the boy's answer, sliced a jagged double lined T into the boy's face. When he was through, he dropped the boy in disgust and kicked him in the stomach for good measure. Bakura clutched the music box close to his chest and blacked out, hearing the footsteps leave the room. A little while later, Marik stumbled back through the wall, the man that had attacked Myra dead. The boy glanced down at the fallen hero, who was covered in scratches and bruises. Gripping his arms, Marik lifted Bakura onto his back and started down the burning hall. When they were successfully out of the burning village, the boys sat watching their village burn. Bakura had awoken and was staring at the music box in his lap, "Where is she?" Marik looked over at his best friend, "I don't know, we were attacked and I told her to run."

The white-haired boy lunged at Marik and pinned him to the cold sand, "You idiot! She's never been outside of the village! She's in the middle of the desert, in the middle of the night, ALONE!" Bakura yelled in his face, angered. Marik kicked his friend off of him and shouted, "She is better off! If she _was _here, would you have been able to protect her?" Bakura's retort froze on his tongue; 'Could I have protected her?' the words swirled around in his mind. The boy sighed and helped his best friend off the ground, "Well we might as well see who survived and what we can salvage." Marik looked at the boy, "Who could have done this?" Bakura told him of the man that had beaten him and the symbol he had on his cloak, "The Pharaoh must have ordered it!" He growled and then looked back at the box that lay in the sand next to him. Marik saw this and put his hand on his shoulder, "We'll find her, I promised her that much." Nodding, Bakura walk toward the burning embers; the sun rose on the boys' dead village.

Elsewhere, a boy dressed in gold jewelry and a tan tunic was playing with a girl who wore a thin beige dress and hat, "Mana, come back!" His tri-colored hair blowing behind him as he ran after the brown haired girl, "Catch me if you can, Atem!" She stuck her tongue out at him as she ran ahead of the boy. Suddenly, she stopped and the boy almost ran into her back, "Mana, what's wrong?" She turned back towards him, deep emerald eyes glittered with tears, "Atem, is she ok?" Atem's crimson eyes looked confused and he looked behind her.

Underneath the willow tree, lay a small girl with bright auburn hair. Her torn navy gown, tangled in her legs. Her hair lay scattered in the soft grass. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed and Atem nodded, "She's breathing." The two knelt down to her and shook her, "Hey, wake up." Mana's fingers trailed over the delicate looking, ruby pendent on her neck, when it moved underneath her hand. Shrieking, Mana hid behind Atem as the girl stirred. Eyes that shone like the Nile cracked open as she struggled to rise. The boy helped her sit up and she froze underneath his touch. She turned and met the boy's crimson eyes, "Who are you?" Mana asked softly, appearing at her side. The mystery girl turned to look at her, "Who am I?" Her voice was hoarse and weak. Mana nodded, "Yeah, what's your name?" The girl shook her head,

"I don't know." Her eyes shut and she fell into the boy's arms, unconscious. Mana looked at Atem, "Can we keep her?" The boy looked at his best friend, "She's not a pet, Mana. But she needs help." Mana looked sideways at the prince, "So, we _can_ keep her." Atem didn't reward her with an answer. With the mystery girl in his arms, he started back towards the palace with Mana bouncing happily at his side.

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**4,109 words! That's the longest first chapter I have ever written! Aww poor Myra! Well this only took a month and a half to be this long and good in my eyes.**

**I weep to see how lazy I've become. Forgive this lousy writer. She means no harm or tears. **

**Myra's dad calls her Qutaita, which means... you guessed it, Kitten in Arabic.**

**Tell me what you think! Press the magical blue button below and review please!**

**Until next time Lovelies,**

**~Shikamaru'sLove**


	2. New Family

**HI! Its me, Shikamaru'sLove! Sorry for the long update! I was in hell with no internet for the past six weeks and couldn't publish this chapter! But I am now so without further ado! I present Princess of Thieves! Read and Review! I don't own Yugioh, only things you recognize as mine. :)**

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~Myra~

The girl stirred, the candlelight interrupting her slumber. Her emerald eyes stayed closed, though, as she heard careful shifting beside her. Fingers searched silently for the handle of her knife, but came up empty. Sighing internally, she cracked open her eyes to see she was in a clinic of sorts. Tilting her head to the side, she saw the boy from before napping away on the edge of the bed. His hair was in the shape of a star, with magenta edging his ebony locks; something about that color made her heart pang. She drew a shaky breath and found her dagger on the stand next to her. She sat up and carefully, so as not to awaken the boy, she reached over him until her fingers wrapped themselves around the silver handle. She lifted it gently, admiring the glint of candlelight on the onyx blade. Cool finger wrapped tightly and firmly around her wrist, making her release her hold on the knife.

The girl cautiously, looked up into the boy's crimson eyes; his bangs were golden and lightning bolts shot up through the starless night of his hair. Her eyes shrank to slits and she yanked her wrist away, drawing it to her chest, "Did I hurt you?" His voice was surprisingly soft, as he reached out to her cradled hand, "W-who are you?" She mentally kicked herself for the quiver in her voice, but in all honestly, she was scared; she didn't know where she was or who she was! "Atem and you are?" He spoke gently as his tanned arm withdrew. The girl looked away and furrowed her eyebrows in concentration, who was she again? She clutched her necklace tightly, before a warm hand inspected it. The boy turned it over in his hands, admiring the delicate gold X crossing over the scarlet orb. On the back of the pendent, was an inscription; Atem read it aloud,

"To my Kitten, Myra…  
Happy eighth year  
~Your little Thief."

Atem looked back at the girl hopeful that this was who she was, "My...r…a." She snapped her gaze up to Atem's and grinned happily, "Myra! My name is Myra!" A smile broke across the boy's face, "Nice to meet you Myra." The girl nodded, "Where am I?" She looked around; the room was stark and empty, nothing personal covered the tables except her knife and torn navy dress, which lay draped across a chair to her left. "In the clinic at the palace in Kemet. What were you doing in the desert?" Atem asked, making her frown. She pursed her lips in concentration, trying to recall what had happened. But nothing came, "I don't know, I can't remember anything." The boy nodded and the door creaked open to reveal a burly man with the same crimson eyes as Atem, "So our guest has awakened." His deep voice was full of authority and kindness. "Father!" Atem shouted in glee as his father walked over to the two, "Myra, this is my father! Father, this is Myra," Atem introduced two, "Pleased to me you, sir." Myra bowed from her place on the bed and the man lifted her bowed head and held her face in his palms, "No need to call me sir, Myra." The girl flushed as dark as her hair, making the man chuckle, "You look like a princess, but the question is, would you like to become one?" Atem grinned and hugged Myra, who was dumbfounded, "Princess?" The boy next to her giggled, (I know, hard for me to imagine too), "You can be my sister; cause I'm a prince and Father is the Pharaoh." He spoke proudly. Myra nodded slowly, as if it only sort of made sense to her, "Princess…I like it." Smiling, the little princess wrapped her arms around her new brother and slowly drifted off to sleep.

~Eight years later~

~Myra~

"Myra, wake up! Today's the coronation!" Mana's high-pitched soprano voice rang in Myra's ears making her groan and roll over into her pillows, pulling the blankets tighter around her body. The young magician sighed and readied her staff, "Hard way huh? Well, Mahado taught me a new charm that-" She didn't get to finish because the princess was sitting up and glaring sleepily, "Mana, it's not even dawn yet, and the coronation isn't until nightfall anyway. So why in the name of Ra are you waking me up?" she growled; all Myra was wanted to do was sleep in the warm covers of her bed. Mana's face fell and she looked down, finding the floor suddenly interesting, "Sorry princess, I will leave you to your sleep." Her tone was sad and respectful. Myra sighed and just as Mana moved to the door, she said, "Come on, Mana, help me figure out what to wear tonight." The girls smiled at each other and the brown haired girl dragged the sleep ridden princess to her closet.

~Thieves~

Long, blonde locks billowed softly in the warm, desert wind. From her place on a warm rock, Neko looked around the camp with a bored expression. Ice blue eyes searched for Marik with distain written in them; he was late, as per usual. Bakura had told everyone not to mess up this job! He was going to crash the coronation of the new pharaoh. Neko, being the smallest and quickest, was to do recon of the palace. Normally, she would have left as soon as sunlight was visible throughout the sky, but because she was the only women, Bakura gave her a partner, Marik. And so there she sat, waiting…for Marik! The sun broke over the sand dunes to the east and with it, Marik, as he exited his tent, "Ah, Neko, love of my life." He started towards her, arms spread wide as if to embrace her.

Said girl rolled her eyes and threw her dagger, hitting the tree behind him, missing his head by mere centimeters, "I told you before dawn, Marik! And I am _not_ the love of your life!" She growled. Marik chuckled and pulled out her knife, tossing it back to her, lightly. She caught it easily and tucked it away in its secret compartment. Neko stood from her seat on the warm stone and adjusted her tan tunic and pants, her royal purple cloak billowing around her as she did, "Come on, we should have been gone already!" Trudging off in to the sunrise, the two thieves walked briskly to their horses before riding off towards Kemet, the Pharaoh's kingdom.

~Myra~

Mana skipped ahead of her mistress as they walked in the direction of the meeting hall. Atem had called for her to attend a meeting that she had no desire of going to. It was probably another treaty meeting with Rome or something that had nothing to do with her. Her necklace glowed and she noticed idly; too caught up in her rant take any real notice. Mana on the other hand was going on and on about how excited she was for the coronation ball that night. A sudden scream of terror startled the princess from her thoughts.

A cobra had itself coiled around a column, head drawn back, preparing to strike at Mana, who had fallen to the floor and was trying to get to her staff to rid them of the creature, slowly so as not to startle it into attacking. Just before it lunged, Myra's necklace hummed against her throat and warmth gathered in her belly. Her hand flew up and fire licked at her fingertips. The serpent gave a harsh screech before the flames turned it to ash. The princess stared at her hand utterly dumbstruck. "What just happened?" Mana gaped at Myra, who was trying to figure that out for herself and come up with an excuse, "I think when your staff sensed your danger, it activated." She explained quickly. "Are you alright, Mana?" The girl nodded and allowed Myra to help her up. "I guess this thing really does work!" She smiled and petted her staff like it was a cat. Myra giggled as the two continued down the hall as if nothing happened.

~Later~

Myra shifted in her seat as Seto's monotonous voice droned on and on about Ra knew what; she question to herself why she was here for about the millionth time. It seemed like they were talking about a peace treaty with Rome and things that had almost no effect on her or the kingdom. She leaned her cheek on her palm and tried to look like she was paying attention to the High Priest. A clear pitcher of red wine sat in front of her and she watched as it stirred back and forth against the confines of the pitcher. She felt like the wine in some ways; Myra really didn't want to be here, in fact she yearned to be out in the sunlight and warm desert breezes. "The prince will be here in three days to meet princess Myra before the wedding." At this, Myra sat up straighter in her seat, her whole body frozen. Then her eyes became mere slits of emerald as she set her murderous gaze on the pitcher of wine once more. Her necklace glittered a dim scarlet and not a moment later, the pitcher shattered. Seething, she stood and calm, as she could manage, she walked out of the room, despite the shouts and calls of protest after her.

As soon as she stepped out of the room, she slipped off her skirts (Secretly happy she listened to Mana when she suggested that she wore pants underneath) and slippers, leaving them on the ground and ran down the hall. She took the stairs two at a time and jumped the last three onto the landing. Pushing open the elaborate wooden gate, Myra stepped into the garden. She quickly found her willow at the edge and plopped down in the cradle of roots. She leaned against it and her long auburn hair falling in her face as she tried to catch her breath. How could Atem do this to her? Didn't she get a say in this? Was she just another asset to be given away in a treaty? Angry tears crept into the back of her eyes, "How could he do this to me? I am _not_ some prize to be _won_!" Myra muttered to herself angrily. Fingers found the hilt of a knife long since buried. The afternoon sunlight glinted off the obsidian blade as she pulled it from its resting place.

She ran her dainty fingers along the soft etch of the dragon that adorned the blade, "Alaster…" She whispered, reading the name that was inscribed on the silver hilt. The dagger had always seemed familiar in her palms; like it belonged there. She didn't know why, but it made her feel…safer. Since Atem found her when she was a small girl, she always felt a strange connection with the weapon. Shortly after her tenth birthday, the Pharaoh took his last breaths, "Myra, there are many people who want to hurt you because you are not my child, people that only know who you are by that dagger. It's very important that you bury it where no one will ever find it. I love you like you were my own daughter, Myra. Atem will take care of you when I'm gone." The princess agreed and hid it underneath the roots of the very tree she was found sleeping under; her willow.

"Myra, where are you?" Atem called from across the garden. Myra inhaled shakily and returned the knife to its place amongst the roots. Wiping the tears from her cheeks, she rose and started towards her brother's voice.

Upon seeing him, her anger rekindled and she quickened her pace, "Were you going to tell me?" She hissed. He winced and looked down at her sadly, "Myra, I needed to make peace with Rome, we have been in bad relations with the country for decades-" Myra interrupted him, "So you gave them _me_! Is that all I am, Atem? A bargaining chip!" Tears threatened to spill but she kept them at bay, she had yet to cry in front of her brother and she wasn't about to start now. The necklace hummed with energy at her throat but she didn't notice.

"If you tell me I must marry in three days, please believe me, I will be dead by morning." Myra spat and tried to storm passed her brother, but he caught her wrist and pulled her back around to face him. The fury on his face was evident; a cold look sat in his crimson eyes. Then something happened that not even Isis could have predicted, let alone poor Myra.

Atem raised a hand and slapped her across the face. Then, grabbing the teary-eyed girl by the chin, he turned her face to his and spoke though gritted teeth, "Let me remind you, sister dear, who you are speaking to! You turn sixteen in two days and the next day you _will_ marry the prince. As a princess, it is your duty. I never want to hear you speak to me that way again, am I understood?"

Myra nodded in silence. Atem let go of her chin, "Good. Remember who you are talking to. I am the Pharaoh!" His voice was tight and clipped. Myra was fuming beneath her tears. She narrowed her emerald eyes and yanked her wrist away, "Not yet, brother dearest, not yet." Then she ran to her room, hot angry tears streaming down her cheeks.

~Thieves~

Neko's boots hit the ground silently as she jumped from the tree onto the hill outside the palace walls. Marik sauntered up just behind her, "I don't understand why the Pharaoh insists on so much security." The girl huffed, making her partner sigh, "He's kind of important or something; Royals are usually like that. And when people don't like something they do, they just seem to want to kill them for some reason…don't ask me why, they seem just as ignorant and conniving as the people in their kingdoms to me." Marik explained and tensed at a commotion going on inside of the palace walls. However, Neko had seen it while Marik was explaining stuff. A girl was running out of a gate and into the garden and soon after the Pharaoh stormed out and started to call for her, "Myra, where are you?" Marik seemed to recognize the name but didn't act on the recognition. It couldn't be her, he thought, She's dead. But Bakura's red pendent glittered in truth at her throat. There was a lot of yelling and then…

SMACK!

The girl held her stinging cheek just as the Pharaoh hissed something at her and Marik growled from his place next to Neko. She ripped her wrist out of his grip and said something, before running to the gate once more. Marik was seething and was fighting the urge to go the extra forty yards and kill the man before Bakura could, but figured that it would both make his king happy to know that their childhood friend was alive and even more bloodthirsty for the Pharaoh's death once he found that he was hitting her.

Smirking to himself, Marik turned to Neko and signaled that they were done and should head back. Yes, Bakura would be most pleased.

~Myra~

"Myra! I know you're angry, but you cannot be serious!" Mana cried. Myra was stuffing clothes and things into a bag; she was going to run away. Jade eyes met their darker counterpart when the princess scanned her eyes, "Mana, I have to! He's trying to marry me off to some stranger!" She said, her voice was drenched in hurt and almost disbelief, "I don't think he was even going to tell me." Mana looked at her, "Sweetheart, you're a princess, it's your duty to your kingdom." Myra nodded, "I know but I'm not a princess! You and Atem found me eight years ago!" The young magician frowned, "I'm going to tell Atem, he'll talk some sense into you." Just as she started for the door, Myra appeared in front of her, "You tell him or anyone or try and stop me, I'll tell Mahado that you like him." She spoke so seriously that Mana looked at her in horror, "You wouldn't." Myra's eyes narrowed, "Try me." Mana nodded and moved away from the door, "You really want to do this?"

"Yes. Mana, I can't be here anymore, I can't remember anything from before I was eight! I need to know who my real family was, where I came from! I need to find home." Myra said quietly, "I'll be careful, I promise." Mana went over to the girl and hugged her tight. The red haired girl returned it and then held the lady's maid at arm's length, "You're my best friend and basically my sister…do what you have to do and visit soon! Take care of yourself." Mana said and poked her forehead gently. Myra nodded and jumped on the terrace. Covering her face with a bandana and her hair with a cloth, Myra strapped her dagger to her calf and jumped from the balcony, her landing being cushioned by the flowerbed below. "I'll cover for you!" Mana whispered giving her a thumbs up. Myra nodded and crept to the palace walls, jumping down and running into the bustling city below.

~Thieves~

The thief king strode along the streets of Kemet calmly, his red cloak and hood covering his silver hair and scarred face. He wanted to get a feel for the place he would be raiding in when night fell. He couldn't help but think of Myra, as he usually did; the way her red hair would shine in the summer, the sun darkening it; her emerald eyes lighting up when she saw him. Bakura shook his head, clearing it. He couldn't mess up this job and couldn't afford to be distracted, with these thoughts. Myra was dead, that much he knew, Marik had let her go and she died in the desert. They hadn't been able to find her for eight years in any of the nearby towns and had accepted the fact that she had died. He tried not to dwell on it much but he still thought of her often.

"Watch out!"

A small voice broke Bakura from his thoughts and a small person ran into him, knocking them both to the ground. Guards on her heels, she had been running down the street in and in an attempt to escape them had turned a corner only to run into him, "Sorry!" She apologized and tried to get up but Bakura gripped her arms, holding her in place. Her eyes were the exact shade _hers _had been, as that was all he was able to see with her covering and bandana. He saw a recognition flash in them and her far away voice saying, "I said I was sorry, I didn't mean to knock you over. Please let go of me." Her voice startled him. But he didn't want to let her go, he wanted to hold her safe in his arms as if she would turn to sand and fall through his fingers at any moment. But he let go of her arms and she stood. Then continued her run down the road, her long auburn hair leaking its way out of her head covering, making his breath catch in his throat. "Myra." He breathed.

The nerves of Bakura's body went on end at the sight of the girl who had just left him on the ground, her emerald eyes still burned like green flames… "Thief! There she goes!" Guards shouted, making the king of thieves snapped out of his inner poet and in seconds, was off the ground and hurrying into a nearby alley. He looked after the guards that had been chasing her, still a few blocks behind her. She was fast, whoever she was Perhaps his coronation crashing could wait a few more hours.

~Myra~

"I didn't mean it! She was starving, and dammit! I left my money at home!" She shouted as she ran through the crowded street. She turned a corner and there was a man walking in her direction, "Watch out!" Myra shouted, but it was too late and the street was too narrow to move around him. She knocked into him and the two fell to the ground, "Sorry." His deep violet orbs bore into her own but seemed to soften in recognition. He wouldn't let go of her arms and she barely recognized her own voice as she told him to let go. But a part of her never wanted him to let go, she felt safe in his arms. His grasp felt familiar and safe. Myra stumbled up and then began running again, trying to shake the familiar feeling of being in his arms or being pierced by those violet eyes. The clash of violet eyes and bright white hair caught a small snag in her wiped memory.

~Later~

The blonde boy from before sat on the stone wall they'd agreed to meet on, when they'd both lost the guards. His sister sat next to him and she smiled at the approaching Myra, "Joey look! It's the pretty lady from the market!" She giggled, pointing to her. Myra laughed lightly at the girl's compliment and handed her a bag that held the apples and loaf of bread they'd been caught stealing. "Here you go, Serenity!" She said. The girl's dark green eyes sparkled at the gift and hugged Myra's leg tightly. Joey walked up to the two quietly and scooped his little sister up off of the other girl, "Thanks, Myr. This means a lot. We don't get food a lot 'a the time." Joey's warm brown eyes regarded her with thanks and appreciation. "No need to thank me, Joey." Myra ruffled the now sleeping Serenity's dark auburn hair lightly, "She's a growing girl, needs her strength." She smiled. A sudden grin spread across the blonde's dirty face and he hugged her tightly. "Joey! I can't breathes!" The seven-year-old's muffled voice came from between the two and Myra laughed, blushing a bit. "I should probably go, I have to get out of the city before my bro- I mean the Pharaoh finds me." She spat the last part.

Joey looked down at her uneasily, "Are you sure, Myr? You know you can stay with us if you want, right?" Myra nodded and thanked the two for their kindness but politely refused and after saying her goodbyes, she put her bandana back over her face and left.

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**Wow! Ok then, Princess on the run, Pharaoh's a bit abusive, random Robin Hood reference lol**

**Please tell me what you think. Press the magical blue button below and review please!**

**Until next time Lovelies,**

**~Shikamaru'sLove Out  
**


	3. Runaway Princess

**Hello all! I'm alive, encase you were wondering. My dear, faithful readers...I'm in desperate need of a beta for all of my stories. If you do that and you are interested, Pm me and I'll get back to you as soon as time allows. :) I have been quite busy with school and Fall season just ended but winter season just started and finals are in a couple of weeks and apparently the world is ending in a few weeks as well...not that I believe in that or anything (Eyes dart back and forth suspiciously) heh heh. Anyways, I am getting sidetracked of the "utter awesome" that awaits you below, those are Chey's words not mine. Anyways, Read and Enjoy...Reviews and ideas are greatly appreciated :) **

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~Bakura~

No! She was dead! Myra was dead! But that peasant girl had seemed so familiar! But she couldn't be his Kitten! Could she? Marik had said that she had run into the desert that night; there was no way she could have survived! Was it possible that she had? No, they had searched for years and had never found her. What was with all of these questions all of a sudden? Bakura shook his head, but images of the last time he had seen her flooded his vision; _she looked so scared and alone as Marik dragged her into the tunnel and to safety. She had insisted upon her music box being brought with her, it was the only she had left of her mother and now her sister_…and now it was all he had left of her. _Crimson locks stuck to her forehead and her emerald, cat-like eyes for which he had nicknamed her for, were filled with tears and questions of why he was leaving her._ Sighing, the thief king shook his head, ridding himself of the pained memories and began to make his way back to his abandoned village in order to prepare for the raid on the late pharaoh's tomb. Maybe then, he thought, these memoires and ghosts will stop haunting me.

~At the Palace~

~Atem~

Atem paced in front of Myra's door, his beige tunic billowing around him as he moved back and forth. He began muttering to himself, trying to think of a way to apologize. His thoughts drifted back to what happened only a few hours ago, when he'd hit his sister; he hadn't meant to lose his temper the way he had and he had no one to blame but himself. He winced at the memory of her face, her eyes red and puffy, their moss color dampened; and that utter…fury that seemed to radiate off of her form as she scowled at him. He halted his pacing and leaned against the stone wall in a very un-kingly like fashion and put his head in his hands. 'What the hell am I worrying about?' he thought to himself, 'She's my sister, I'm sure she's come to terms with her duties as a princess by now.' Pushing off the wall, Atem raised a hand to knock. 'I hope to Ra I'm right.'

Taking a breath, the prince knocked.

~Mana~

Mana was panicking when the hallow noise resonated throughout the room. 'What do I do?!' She thought frantically, pacing back and forth on the balcony. The knock sounded again, "Myra? I need to talk to you." Atem! Great! What do I say?! Myra ran away, yes sir, sorry sir, she threatened me with my deepest secret! Yeah that would go over so well with the kid who was going to be crowned pharaoh in a few hours! The door opened and Mana took a shaky breath before turning to face her friend and king.

"Oh, Mana, I was looking for Myra." He said and looked at the mage in expectation. She fumbled for words, when a sudden cool fell over her, "She went out." Came her smooth lie, and for a moment Mana was horrified with herself at the lie that fell so easily from her lips; but then she remembered why she was doing it. "Oh, well, where did she go?" Atem asked. The mage frowned, "I don't know, she didn't tell me." That wasn't exactly a lie; Myra didn't tell her where she was going. "Do you know when she'll be back?" He pressed. Mana sat on the bed and best friend mode turned on, "Why should I tell you after what you did?" She asked with a deadly menace. Atem sighed and sat down on the bed, putting his head in his hands, "You have every right not to, what I did was unforgivable." Mana was taken aback by the prince's sudden confession of remorse.

A small, caring smile graced her face, "Atem, if you know what you did then, what are you doing here?" He looked up at her with slightly narrowed eyes, "To apologize." The mage shook her head at him, like a teacher who didn't want to call their student an idiot but still wanted them to know they were wrong and it wasn't the first time, "You know she's too stubborn to hear an apology." She soothed, rubbing his back, tracing shapes in the soft fabric of his tunic. "I know, but I have to try." Mana winced at the tone of sincerity in the prince's voice and went to the balcony, looking over the bustling city of Kemet. A butterfly landed on the scroll of her staff before fluttering out into the world. "Mana, where is Myra?" Uh-oh, Pharaoh Voice! Her cool flew out the window with the butterfly and she began to panic, "Out." Her voice was barely a whisper and her feet were suddenly very interesting.

"Mana!" A warning.

"It's a funny story…heh, heh…" She turned around, a shaky smile on her lips. Atem did not look amused, as he towered over her. "Where is my sister, Mana?" She looked down again, "She's gone." Came her meek reply, "What?" He hissed angrily. "She ran away!" Mana exploded in an anger that was like a fire raging in her heart, "You know why? Because you tried to marry her off to a complete stranger, like she was nothing but a pawn at your disposal! And when she decided that she was going to fight back, you hit her!" The young mage took a breath and started again, "I don't know where she went but I do know she isn't coming back." Atem stood there looking at her in shock.

"Sir, we have a problem!" Seto ran into the room, breathing rather heavily, "What is it, Seto?" Atem asked, his voice far away, still staring at Mana with a shocked and angry expression. "Myra! She's-" the prince interrupted him, "Gone. Yes, I am aware." He grounded out, crimson eyes narrowing at the small girl in front of him, "No, my prince, she is posing as a thief in town!" Mana tried to hide her grin, a sense of pride towards her mistress, "That's my girl!" She muttered, earning a glare from both men. "Catch her as soon as possible and prepare my horse." Seto shook his head, "But, sir, you must prepare for the coronation!" Atem glared him, "She is my sister, Seto, and therefore, my responsibility." The high priest nodded and left to do as he was ordered.

The prince turned his gaze to the young mage, "You, Mana, I will let Mahad decide your punishment, as he is your master." Mana opened her mouth to protest, but Atem was already out the door. Sighing, she sat on the wicker chair and fantasized about the things she wished Master Mahad would do to her as punishment.

~Meanwhile with Myra~

Myra sat on the outer wall of the city, eating the melon bread she had stolen from the market place earlier. The walls were tall so she could see nearly all that was going on both in and outside of the city. How did she get up on to that tall wall you ask? Well, she scaled the bricks, like anyone who was raised with a mage would have. Her head covering was making her sweat in the warm Egyptian sun, so she slipped it around her neck, letting her long auburn locks free into the wind. She giggled at a few guards who were chasing a dog and were running into each other. She cradled the short bow and quiver that Joey had given her before she had left them and chuckled at the words her had said to her as he did,

"_No lady should be left undefended." She was just about to protest about before he silenced her, "Think of it as a token of our friendship!" Joey's toothy grin was enough to make Myra question why she would ever want to leave this place. _"Token of our friendship…" She muttered, tracing the dragon that was carved into the soft wood of the bow. A hieroglyphic was etched below the creature, "Maya" it read. She slipped her dagger out of the ribbon on her calf and compared the two dragon designs…they _matched_. Myra's breath hitched in her throat, 'Maybe,' she thought, 'Maybe, they were from a similar craftsman…' She knew she was lying to herself though, but she did know that Joey would _never_ steal it unless he absolutely _had_ to in order to protect Serenity and himself. She shook her head and continued to eat her melon bread.

She stayed like that until her fingers were long since sticky from the sweet bread and the sun was a quarter way of setting on the horizon. It was relaxing, sitting in the shade of a nearby tree in the warm summer breeze, hair blowing out behind her; she could never remember being this calm and at ease. That is until, "Hey, look, it's the thief from the market!" Myra's revere bubble popped as one of the guards shouted her location to others. An arrow flew from her bow, hitting one guard in the shoulder, knocking him from his horse. The little thief slipped her covering back onto her head and leapt down onto the horse. Clicking her tongue, she nudged the black mare forward towards the empty desert that surrounded the city.

Once she lost the following guards, Myra slowed the horse down to a nice, light trot, murmuring softly into her mane as she slowly let up on the reins. She patted the mare's side and finally took a deep breath of fresh desert air; she was free! A town appeared on the horizon and her heart skipped a beat. She could start all over; find out who she really was and where she came from. As she neared the village, Myra pulled on the reins softly, stopping the horse and slid off of the saddle. She nuzzled her face into her neck, "Sorry, love. I didn't mean to run you so hard." Stroking its nose, she noticed its soft grey eyes, "You have beautiful eyes." Something glinted in the setting sunlight; the name of the horse was stamped into the side of the saddle. "Midnight." It read.

Midnight nudged Myra's hand with her nose. "Good girl, Midnight." She crooned as she led the black mare into the village. She froze; shouldn't a town be bustling and loud? The horse took it upon herself to direct her mistress to the shade inside the village and laid down in the shadow of the wall. The girl giggle lightly and patted her mane gently. Slipping off her bow and quiver, she tucked them into the side of Midnight's saddle and walked into the empty town. Dust blew circles around her as she crept through. A dull ache had started in the back of her head but she dismissed it.

"Hello?" She called, her voice echoing throughout the empty, dead town. No one answered. She looked around and tried to keep her composure. The buildings were crumbled and parts of them were charred and blackened. Walking into an abandoned house, the girl looked around and was absolutely horrified; it looked like had been pillaged and the roof was mostly caved in. But, in the rubble, sat an old, dirty doll; it wore a torn dusty pink dress with a red ribbon in its yellow yarn hair. Picking it up, Myra held it to her chest; she felt for the poor girl who had lost her doll.

She had surveyed every house in the village for life and had found none; only death. Just as she was about to turn away and go back home, tired and defeated, her head started to pound; like rocks were crushing her skull over and over again. Crying out, the runaway princess fell to her knees. Her necklace glowed brightly, as if offering comfort. She didn't know how long the pain continued but after what felt like an eternity, a light childish voice broke through the barrier and the rocks stopped falling. Slowly, she rose and stood.

"_We'll find you, I promise." _

The voice whispered on the wind; it came from the big house that stood, charred and crumbling at the edge of the village. The voice grew as she neared the palace. There was a small hole on the wall nearest her and she, being small, crawled through it. The stone walls were cool to the touch and she almost moaned at the sudden pleasant change of temperature. Keeping her footsteps silent, Myra made her way through the palace, her necklace the only thing illuminating the darkness that plagued her way.

"_This way! Though the servants passage! Myra, Come on!"_

She jumped at her name and sudden development in the voice; it was no longer a calm pledge but an urgent plead and command. Gripping the doll tightly to her chest, Myra looked around at the crumbling walls and patched up ceilings. Heavy footsteps echoed against the walls, sent her into a flurry of panic. She shrunk behind a tapestry portraying a king fighting an army, but the kings' face had been worn away with age and the opposing army looked as if someone had slashed through it with a blade. There was only one problem with her hiding spot; the tapestry was too short to fully conceal her feet. She tried the door across the narrow corridor, locked. Damn, she thought, as she frantically pulled on the handle. Her necklace glittered brighter and the door opened underneath her hands. Myra thanked the gods as she slipped inside.

The room was different than the others she had seen; this one looked untouched by fire or thieves or well…anything. It looked as if a maid had just spread the bed and swept the floors. It was a child's bedroom, she realized, taking in a few dolls and little girl sized dresses. On the night stand, sat a gold box; black hieroglyphic carvings covered the sides, the circular jade lid shone dully in the low lighting of the room. Myra felt something tug at the frayed edges of her memory and images flashed before her eyes; fire and screams of children; tufts of white hair and red blood. Shaking her head, she slowly set down the doll onto the bed and made her way over to the box, opening the smooth, polished jade lid. Familiar music poured from the sides and a song tugged at her lips. The glow from her necklace illuminated the box in the shadows of the room.

Painted on the inside of the lid were images of bears and a flock of birds with smooth, long necks. The group of bears looked like they were dancing, they wore little hats and were holding paws in a circle. The flock of birds flew over them in a ring. The images looked worn, as if someone had rubbed at them for hours at a time. In the center of the box spun a galloping horse, also looking a little old; it's delicately painted body, chipping and peeling paint. There was something about the tune that tugged at her memory, Myra hummed along with the melody,

"Dancing bears," She caressed the bears, "Painted wings," Her fingers met the soft wings of the birds and flashes of fire and the faces of boys she'd never seen, ran across her field of vision. "Things I almost remember," A soft voice whispered words she couldn't make out, "And a song someone sings, Once Upon a December." Ghostly arms engulfed her, "Someone holds me safe and warm," People swirled and danced around her. Closing her eyes, Myra saw her younger self in the same navy dress that Mana and Atem had found her in all those years ago, "Figures dancing gracefully across my memory." The visions were getting less and less clear and her memory was beginning to darken, "Far away, long ago, glowing dim as an ember, things my heart used to know, things it yearns to remember." She wanted to remember, so much that tears filled her eyes and her heart ached in her chest. She wasn't lying when she told Mana that she wanted to know about her past. And this song seemed to be the key to her memory, "And a song someone sings, Once Upon a December." The girl gripped at her necklace tightly as she shut the music box. The magic left her and she fell into a heap onto the small, soft bed.

Her heart ached and she sobbed into the pillow. She had never broken down this badly before, what was happening to her? She drew her silver dagger, once more marveling at the sheer beauty of the blade. Her fingers drifted along the inscription once more, "Alaster." She murmured and then her eyes shut. She felt a ghostly pair of warm lips on her forehead and a vision struck her.  
A boy with scruffy, black hair and vivacious green eyes that were no longer twinkling with their usual mischief, "Don't argue with me, Myra." He gently pushed her into the room and shut the door behind himself as he left to brave the battle. She felt a strong connection to that boy. The knife suddenly felt too heavy to hold and it fell, tumbling to the wooden floorboards below. A name floated into her head, Alaster. Then, there was nothing as unconsciousness over took her.

~Neko~

The blonde haired thief made her rounds around the old castle, cleaning all of the thieves' rooms, which were made up of what was left of the old servants' quarters. She, Bakura and Marik had the guest rooms, as the thief king had some sort of respect for the long dead royals. When he had saved her from the hunters when she was a girl, Bakura had offered her a roof over her head and food in her belly…for a price. Not that she was complaining, it was just cleaning up after everyone; it wasn't as bad as it sounded. Every Friday, he let her clean one other room, the little princess' room, as she had dubbed it. She could tell it took a lot for him to ask her to keep this room in order as well as the others. He had always done it, for as long as she could remember, but when he started raids and his revenge, he just didn't have the time. Neko never questioned his abnormal hobby of cleaning the little girl's room; she could tell that he cared greatly about her, whoever she was. But every now and again, the thief king would tell her that he would do it and not to bother with the extra room. She would sometimes watch as he dusted and swept the small room in absolute silence. But once he was finished, he would sit on the chair next to the bed and open a certain green lidded music box. The soft lullaby that had weaved its way forever into her mind, seemed to bring Bakura into a place of serenity and calmness as he hummed a small, unknown melody. She was on her way to clean the last room on her list and since no one was here, including her leader, she was to assume that she was to clean the extra room this week.

But when the blonde thief reached the little princess's room and softly opened the door, she almost immediately shut it; there was a little princess in the room! The red-haired girl looked as if she had fallen into an unconscious heap on the bed. She wore a face covering and her hood lay uselessly at the nape of her neck. A small red amulet lay in the hallow of her throat and Neko suddenly recognized her from earlier that day in the pharaoh's garden. Her blue eyes quickly scanned the girl as she analyzed what to do. She noted that the girl's trousers were filthy and worn at the bottom. The thief resolved that she would go and fetch the girl a change of clothes as she thought of a long term plan.

However, the gods had another plan; Bakura had found her on her way back from, what he assumed was, his rooms, "Neko, don't worry about the extra room, I'll get it today." Neko's eyes widened and she fumbled for an excuse to get him away from the girl's room. "I actually, already cleaned them." The thief king looked skeptical, "Then where were you going?" The blonde racked her brain once more before nonchalantly saying, "I left my broom in the by the door, sir." Violet eyes narrowed to slits and Neko felt her face drain of all color, "But, your broom was left in Marik's room, he complained to me about it. Now, tell me the real reason. You can't lie to me, Neko." His voice was a quiet growl but the threat was there and it was just as powerful as an enraged shout. The thief in front of him shifted her weight from foot to foot and her mouth went dry, "There's someone in the room, sir." She whispered, her voice cracking ever so slightly. Bakura stood silently, his arms crossed, awaiting further explanation. "It's a girl with red hair." His face noticeably blanched and Neko didn't know if she should be proud or scared that she had offset her leaders' normal mindset, "Who?" His voice was a breath, so quiet that Neko had to strain her ears just to hear it. She took a breath and stared him in the eye, her voice as steady as she could manage, "The princess of Kemet, the Pharaoh's sister."

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**Omigoddess! Discovered! Mana has weird fetishes about her teacher, Bakura has _Feelings! _And Atem is a cold-hearted bastard! Not to mention, our runaway princess is starting to remember some things. Yes, Maya was her sister and Alaster her brother, she just doesn't remember...yet! Oh I have so many ideas for this one! Probably my most thought out one yet.  
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**What will Bakura do about his little guest? What will Myra do with this newly acquired information? What is Atem going to do? When will the Romance genre kicking in? Will the authoress ever stop asking these questions? Most of these questions and more will be answered in the next chapter of: The Princess of Thieves  
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**Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but you've read my fanfic, so review it maybe :) Just made that up lol**

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**Until next time lovelies,  
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**~Shikamaru'sLove  
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